Reflections
by Ravenrockstheworld
Summary: Sam reflects on his choice to leave jess and the life that has been the result of it. mild swearing.[ONESHOT]


**Hello, hello, hello! It's me, RRTW. I'm entering the Supernatural world with this oneshot- my very first. It's written in Sam's pov, although I probably don't need to say it, as it's pretty obvious. ; ) **

**A/N1: this is my very first one shot and supernatural fic, so bear with me.**

**A/N2: this fic delves into Sam's mind before they hear from their dad, and before provenance.**

**A/N3: for my other fic, I've got a hell of a bad case of that devilish thing we call writer's block. I'm trying people! No good, pain in the ass, damned writer's block…**

**Disclaimer: I own neither Supernatural, nor Carry on my Wayward Son, by Kansas. I don't own them either. :D**

_Takes deep breath X0 _

**Here we go!**

_**Reflections**_

I've been thinking a whole lot since we left Charlie. She still blamed herself for her boyfriend's suicide- I could tell. That was a while ago, and so much has happened since then, but I haven't stopped thinking about what I did, about how I left her when I knew something would happen to her.

It's worst at night, when everything's quiet. That's when I get the most time to think; I don't have to be doing anything. My mind strays and I eventually end up thinking about her. Lately, I've thought about how she's the reason why I hunt with Dean.

At first, I only continued hunting with Dean to find the Demon that killed her and Mom. That was the only thing that kept me going- finding their murderer. I didn't really care about Dad then. For all I cared, he could end up burning in hell with the rest of them. Revenge motivated, me, urged me on. It was the only thing that kept me going. It wasn't about the lives I laved, the people I helped. It was never about them.

I don't know when I started noticing the thankfulness in peoples' eyes after we saved them. I think it started after Dean and I destroyed the spirit of Mary. I distinctly remember Charlie's immense relief when she found out she wasn't going to die, that we had saved her life.

I saw her that day; on the sidewalk, as we were leaving the city. In my heart, I knew it was her spirit, and she was trying to tell me something, something important. However, that night, I lay awake, staring at the ceiling. My mind took over; it told me that I was probably just seeing things because I had been thinking about her so much lately. It told me that she was dead and not coming back, ever.

Isn't it funny how your heart and your mind tend to tell you different things all the time? They rarely ever agree on anything. Of course, that just confuses us more and more. It's like you have two conflicting consciences- one tells you one thing, and the other tells you something completely opposite.

Regardless of that conflict, I knew it was her spirit; how could I not? I've lives my whole life knowing that there are things out there, things that hide in the darkness. It's never a case of 'just seeing things'.

I've since figured out what she was trying to tell me. She was telling me to move on, to stop blaming myself for her death because it wasn't my fault. She was telling me to keep hunting for the sake of helping people and finding Dad, not for revenge. I've been trying to follow that advice ever since.

I don't fully blame myself for it anymore. It wasn't my fault that the demon decided to kill her. However, I could have stayed. I shouldn't have ignored those dreams like that. If I had stayed, then I could have protected her, saved her life.

What If I had stayed? What if I had saved her? I'd have convinced myself that it was just some creep who'd broken into our dorm. That's what our story would have been. I'd have gone to the interview, and Jess and I would be living the lives of two normal people in a normal world. Dean would probably be dead though…. We never would have been able to kill some of the things we did kill…well, not without putting innocent people in severe danger.

I'd have been living a lie, an illusion I had spun. It wouldn't have been the real me; it would have been a lie- my whole life would have been like a masquerade ball, and I would have been going as a normal man. At midnight, though, when the masks came off, my weak attempt at hiding my self under the costume would have been for nothing, for everyone would see the real me.

There would have been no avoiding the removal of the masks; it's always inevitable. The truth always comes out, regardless of how hard you try to hide it. My world would have come crashing down around me, and I would have been exposed. No matter how many times my sub conscious mind told me this, no matter how much I knew it was right, I didn't ever give up, and I sure as hell wasn't going to. To this day, I'm glad that this didn't happen. My friends would have deserted me. It would've destroyed me and my relationship with her. Hey, if I found out she was a demon hunter, doing what I do right now, I would have had a hell of a lot of respect for her, but I don't know if I'd have been able to deal with it. I definitely would've been hurt that she hadn't trusted me enough to tell me who she really was. I can't speak for her though; I do know that I didn't expect her to stay with me. In fact, for her safety, if she hadn't left me, I would've left her, I guess….

I remember the day she told me she loved me. I stayed up for hours, staring at the wall of my room, contemplating whether or not to tell her. I decided to tell her if we ever got married. Now that I think about it, if we'd gotten married, I'd probably have stared at a wall for hours of end, then decide to tell her if we ever had kids. Then I'd probably put it off from there.

I only went with Dean because he asked for my help. He's not the kind to admit that he needs help, that he can't do something on his own. I decided that he must've really needed my help, if he was asking straight up. Well, that and…maybe I was a little worried about Dad. Regardless of how I felt about him at that moment, he was still my Dad.

Do I regret that I left her? 'Hell yeah' was my answer a few moths ago. Now I'm not so sure. I mean, she died, and I left my world of success and normality for the supernatural and an array of different identities. I went from a Stanford dorm to a '67 Chevy Impala. However…I kind of like this new life. It's no walk in the park – more like a drive through Hell –, but this is who I'm meant to be. I make a real difference in the world, I save lives. I wasn't doing that back at school. Sure I might've become a lawyer, or a surgeon, or a business man, but then it would be about the money instead of the people. When your job is one that your mistakes result in people dying or getting hurt, you tend to do it with more…effort. When you do your job with everything you have in you, you tend to get attached to it.

Look at me, talking about my hunting as a job! It's a way of life, not a job. There are no breaks, you can't take a vacation, and you can't lighten the load on bit. Dean'll tell anyone that we don't get paid for doing what we do. I've come to realize that he's wrong. We don't get paid in money, but that's not the only kind of payment there is. That awesome feeling you get inside when you know you've saved a life; that relief and thankfulness in people's eyes when they know that their worst nightmare is dead and gone; the comfort that envelops you when you know there's one more demon back in Hell; those are my payment. Of course, the one other thing I want is that thing that killed her dead.

At first, all I could think about was destroying it. At night, I had that damn recurring nightmare-vision thing. During the day, I thought about it non-stop. I did research, sometimes, when we were in-between hunts. Of course, Dad's probably already hot on the trail of the damned thing. Although Dad and I didn't exactly part on a…good note last time we spoke, I have to admire the man's ability.

I do know one thing though – I won't let him kill it without me. I want it dead, but not just for revenge anymore. It's been hurting people for God knows how long, and it will keep tearing families like ours apart if we don't kill it.

I won't lie. Our family was torn to shreds. I grew up going from motel to motel, staying home alone and not being allowed to leave until Dad got back. Dean knew how to use a gun and was pretty good with one by the time he was twelve. For me, getting the good education I wanted was impossible if I stayed with them. Dad and I had a huge fight and I left. Dean and Dad began going on separate hunts, meeting up when they weren't hunting. We weren't a family anymore. We were three people who were biologically related, but really weren't. I tried to distance myself from them as best I could. I wanted nothing to do with them, and they…didn't really care. I know Dad didn't, but Dean might've worried. After caring for me for years, I would imagine that he would've cared and worried.

I'm so happy that Dean and I are working together. We're brothers, real brothers now. If he died, I don't know what I'd do. We make a fabulous team, too. I love him, although neither of us would ever tell the other that he's not just a gigantic pain in the ass. I still hate it when he calls me Sammy though.

Am I happy with my life? Yeah! I don't think I could ever become normal Stanford Sam again. I love hunting, even though I swore I was done it for good. I'd forgotten what it felt like to save lives for a living. I'd never tell Dean this; he'd say I was going soft, or I was becoming a real Winchester. He'd probably take me out for and round of beers at a run-down bar as congratulations. After he was good and drunk and I was pretty close to it (I like to think of myself as a responsible drinker), we'd realize that we couldn't drive and didn't have a designated driver. Dean might try to, but I'd take the keys away, joking that we were making the world safer and the roads more dangerous. Then we'd crash in the car or a cheap motel for the night.

We don't hunt just to save lives. We've stopped patters that might re-occur for centuries to come, killing so many people. We've alleviates 'curses' from families or estates. Every time we succeed, the dangerous world we live in is a little safer. Revenge is another reason. Because one killed her and mom, they _all _have to suffer the price. Not a horrid motto to live by. Of course it's all the wrong reasons, but what the hell, eh?

At least now I'm being the real me, the man I'm meant to be.

It's hard to carry on after loosing someone you love. It's hard for me not to blame myself. I need to carry on, and maybe, after I'm gone, after I'm done hunting, the world will be just a little safer, just a little more peaceful. So I'm not going to be angry and fully blame myself anymore. I still love her, and I always will love her. I think she forgives me. I hope she forgives me. The girl I knew and loved would.

Jess, wherever you are, know that I still love you, and that I always will love you.

Carry on my wayward son

There'll be peace when you are done

Lay your weary head to rest

Don't you cry no more

Once I rose above the noise and confusion

Just to get a glimpse beyond this illusion

I was soaring ever higher

But I flew too high

Though my eyes could see I still was a blind man

Though my mind could think I still was a mad man

I hear the voices when I'm dreaming

I can hear them say

Carry on my wayward son

There'll be peace when you are done

Lay your weary head to rest

Don't you cry no more

Masquerading as a man with a reason

My charade is the event of the season

And if I claim to be a wise man, well

It surely means that I don't know

On the stormy sea of moving emotion

Tossed about I'm like a ship on the ocean

I set a course for wind of fortune

But I hear the voices say

Carry on my wayward son

There'll be peace when you are done

Lay your weary head to rest

Don't you cry no more

Carry on, you will always remember

Carry on, nothing equals the splendor

Now your life's no longer empty

Heaven waits for you

Carry on my wayward son

There'll be peace when you are done

Lay your weary head to rest

Don't you cry, don't you cry no more

**So……………………………….how was it? I want the truth people! Were my characters totally ooc? Was the writing bad? Did the whole thing just suck like no tomorrow? **

**Did anyone out there recognize the song I used? Hmmmmmmm?**

**Well? What are you waiting for? Press that nice little button that lets you review! . **

**Until next time!**


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